Watch You Sparkle & Watch You Grow
by sordidheart
Summary: We've meet Elle's Daddy...but whatever happened to Mommy?


-1_Child, the current of your breath is six days long.  
You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed;  
lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong….You sense the way we belong.  
But this is an institution bed.  
You will not know me very long._

From the Poem: Unknown Girl in the Maternity Ward by Anne Sexton

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 0 days 1 hour 0 minutes 0 seconds

You are pink and squirming in your incubator and I press my palm up to the glass in a vain attempt to touch you. Your eyes aren't open yet. He stands next to me with his clipboard and his pen, in his suit, and his tie. I sit next to him in the wheelchair they insisted upon. My belly empty, my body sore.

"What are we waiting for?" I ask.

"Just some signs." he says and he clicks his pen.

"Isn't she a little young?" I ask, "Isn't she much too young?" I hope.

He looks at me with sympathetic eyes. Kind eyes. "How else can you explain what happened to you?" he asks.

His voice is so kind, so full of understanding that it makes me want to throw up.

And I chew my bottom lip and look away from him.

"We've never had a case of abilities appearing so early," I say.

And he sighs again and says, "Yes, yes she is very special."

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours

I will leave you here.

I will leave you here in this building, in this bed, with this I.V. in your tiny arm, while you look up at me with your great, big, eyes, while you look up at me and say, "Mommy?"

I will leave you here.

With him.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 4 years 2 days 15 hours 11 min.

You are not a child.

Bright and blue. Swirling all around you.

You are not a child.

You are a mythical creature older than time itself. Sent down to us in mortal form.

You are pure energy itself.

The blue is all around you, the blue is circling you. I watch you stunned and dumbfounded.

You are wondrous to behold. All that color, all that magic, swirling around you like cotton candy.

My darling, you are the Forth of July!

And then you stop.

But why? You can't be done playing already. It's only just begun.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours 29 minutes

You are pouring out of me as my insides turn to glass and shatter.

I am being cooked.

My organs are melting, becoming liquid.

No, they're extra crispy, black and burnt.

Whatever the case it ends here.

I won't look you in the eyes.

I won't tuck you in at night.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 0 days 0 hours 20 minutes 10 seconds  
I...  
I open my eyes and there he is smiling at me, looking at me.

"It's a girl," he tells me.

I am heavy and groggy and unsure of myself. I look down in my arms expecting to see them numb and useless but holding an infant.

"The drugs will wear off soon." he says.

"I don't understand," I say.

He sees me staring at my empty, useless arms.

"She's fine, don't worry, we'll take you to her in a second."

"What?"

As they help me into my wheelchair they remind me over and over again of how we always knew that this was a very real possibility.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 6 years 8 days 1 hour 2 minutes

We will have a day off today.

We will go to my Mother's and you will hunt Easter eggs with your cousins in the pretty new dress we bought you. You look like a little angel in all that white and pink and ruffles. You look like a little cup cake. Everything will be wonderful. Then he'll understand what I mean when I say you need days like this. And here we are in the car and here we are.

Off we go.

But something's wrong.

You're cranky.

The whole way there all you do is pout.

And when my Mother sees you the first thing that she says is, "A frown on a young lady as pretty as yourself is very unbecoming."

"You're old!" you reply.

"And you smell," you say.

And you stomp.

"This is stupid!"  
You glare.

"I want to go home!"

Your hurl your Easter basket to the ground.

All the candy, the toys, the pretty, painted eggs: ruined.

And then I see the sparks.

Singing and crackling and raining from your fingers.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 0 days 0 hours 0 minutes 0 seconds

The nurses begin to scramble and I reach for your Father's hand.

"Don't worry," he tells me, "this will all be over soon."

He fills a syringe with something dark, dark, red.

And injects it into my I.V.

While the darkness comes, while my eyes begin to close.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 4 years 2 days 15 hours 11 min. 55 seconds

You've stopped.

The spell is broken and I wonder.

But then I see you shoes.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours

I will leave you here with him because it's the right thing to do.

After all he can handle you.

And I can't.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 1 hour 30 minutes 15 seconds

I notice it first.

You whimper.

And then he does.

You begin to wail.

"Wait, wait stop," I say.

"I'm not the one doing it, "he reminds me.

You are all soft skin and tiny baby bones but that's not all…

You're twisting and turning and violent and angry. And the sparks…

"Stop it," I say, "Please!"

You are all soft skin and baby bones but you are also energy.

Pure energy.

So much light.

It's a magic show.

The glass of the incubator is keeping all the energy in.

"Stop it now!" I say.

But then as if you've heard me. You stop all on your own.

And when all the crash and sparkle fades I see you.

Pink and perfect as you've always been and always will be.

And fast asleep.

"Look at that," he says and he is breathless, "she's perfectly fine, not a scratch on her."

He has fallen in love with you.

Right then.

Right there.

I imagine he felt much the same way the first time he saw me…

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 4 years 2 days 15 hours 12 min.

Your nice new white sneakers with the shoelaces sprinkled with tiny pink hearts. You picked them out yourself.

And now they are melted to the ground.

Your doll baby has been reduced to a monstrosity all melted eyes and burnt doll hair, and your own lovely curls are singed.

"Mommy," and the tears are pouring down your cheeks, "I want my Mommy." You moan.

Oh my baby, oh my love…

And I press my hand to the glass in a vain attempt to touch you.

I glance at my wedding ring.

I see his sparkle as he writes.

"Good, good, she's advancing well."

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours

I will leave you here with him because it's the right thing to do.

After all he can handle you.

And I can't.

I will leave you here with him, but first…

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 6 years 8 days 1 hour 5 minutes

Before the sparks even reach the roof I see him pull out his cell phone.

As if he had planned it…

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours 10 minutes 10 seconds

I will leave you here with him, but first…

A friend of ours is going to help you and then…

He promises to do it right this time.

He promised me.

A fresh start.

"A second chance." your Father says, "that's all she really needs."

That's all life really is.

Chances.

Possibilities.

Realized.

"A second chance…a fresh start…"

That's all you really need…right?  
You're sleeping and I watch our friend place his palm on your forehead and after it's all over I do the same.

You are pink and soft and bones and energy.

You are my darling, you are my love.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours 30 minutes 10 seconds

You don't need anything from me anymore. You tiny force of nature, have you ever really needed anything from me ever?

But I've always, always needed you.

I touch your hand and you open your eyes slowly.

And then so wide.

And the I see it. And then I know.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours 31 minutes 30 seconds

I don't know why he did it…he must have had a reason…

You don't recognize me.

You're terrified.

And then I feel it.

I'm holding your hand. I can't let go. I won't let go.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 9 years 3 months 2 days 7 hours 32 minutes 8 seconds

The world is shattering all around us.

It's just a reflex.

It's just a shock.

Not to blame…you're not to blame.

I can see stars and smell pure energy, pure existence all around me, and someone behind me pulling and pulling…not to blame…not to…your Father's voice, maybe? My Father's voice, maybe?

My legs melt, my skin melts, I see you.

You have never, ever been more beautiful.

Subject: E. Bishop

Age: 0 days 2 hours 5 minutes 25 seconds

I take you still sleeping out of the incubator.

I hold you gently in my arms. 


End file.
